Long Enough
by Tori of Lorien
Summary: Movie-based twoshot. After his presumed death on Svartalfheim, Loki reflects on all that led up to the sacrifice he made for his brother, and Thor finally gets a quiet moment to grieve for his lost brother.


**Long Enough**

 **Disclaimer** : As much as I wished I owned some of these characters, that's not the case. They all belong to Marvel! Any movie quotes also do not belong to me.

 **Summary** : Movie-based twoshot. After his presumed death on Svartalfheim, Loki reflects on all that led up to the sacrifice he made for his brother, and Thor finally gets a quiet moment to grieve for his lost brother.

 **Characters** : Loki and Thor, mentions of Odin, Frigga, Jane, and others

 **Pairings** : Mentions of Thor/Jane Foster and Odin/Frigga

 **Rating** : T

 **Genre** : Drama/Family

 **Author's Note** : Inspired by the song "Walk" by the Foo Fighters, which is also found in the first _Thor_ movie. A couple lyrics are used at the beginning to set the tone, but it is by no means a song fic. This is just a little idea that came about while watching _The Dark World_ , as well as inspired by some conversations with a friend. Basically just something I really would have liked to see more of for Thor's character, as well as what I like to believe about Loki's character (c'mon, he's not all bad), so I guess it could kind of be considered an introspective character study of both brothers, along with their relationship. It'll be divided into two parts, part one being Loki and the second part being Thor. This is strictly movie-based (pretty much, anyway, except for Loki's eye color) as I don't want to pretend to have a ton of knowledge about the vast expanse that is the MCU. I'm also sure this isn't the first time this idea has been tackled, but it's just my own spin on it. Also no slash, just some good ol' brotherly fluff. With that said, feel free to review, just no flames please! Enjoy!

 _"A million miles away_

 _Your signal in the distance_

 _To whom it may concern_

 _I think I lost my way_

 _Gettin' good at startin' over_

 _Every time that I return_

 _Learning to walk again_

 _I believe I've waited long enough_

 _Where do I begin?_

 _Learning to talk again_

 _Can't you see I've waited long enough?_

 _Where do I begin?"_

 _-Foo Fighters, "Walk"_

* * *

 _Part 1– Loki_

The dark sands of Svartalfheim swirled in the gusting wind around him as he slowly sat up and surveyed the vast, deserted landscape that stretched out before him. Emerald eyes moved down to his dirtied hands, and he sighed as he attempted to brush himself off a bit despite knowing it was a wasted effort. He then straightened up a little more and stretched out his stiff muscles, pausing as he set a light hand over his chest. He couldn't deny that the sword's long blade piercing straight through him had hurt more than he'd like to admit, but it was still nothing that he couldn't handle. Some of it had simply been a trick of the eye, anyway.

Though there was still that undeniable, pesky sting that he was now left with as the wound finished up healing.

Loki Laufeyson let out a long breath as he cast his gaze up to the dark, billowing clouds above him, the quiet of the place giving him a moment to think about just what had brought him to this wasteland to begin with. Though this could certainly be considered one of the last places he'd rather be at this point in time, he was exactly _what_ he wanted to be– being considered dead in a place far from home, though it could be argued if he even had one anymore, he was free to do as he wished. Free from Asgard's prisons. Free from Thor's shadow. Free from his father's, if he could even be called that, scrutiny and ridicule. And that was something that settled very well with him, indeed.

But what had brought him to this place was something else entirely.

 _"Trust my rage."_

Loki's gaze faltered as he lowered it back to his slender fingers, tracing closely over the pale, dirt-smudged skin. He had always known he was different, ever since he was a child growing up on Asgard. Being small and scrawny in a place where the physical strength and attributes of its inhabitants were celebrated had always made him feel isolated from other children who were being groomed to grow into these marvelous feats, a feeling that had lingered with him even into his adult years. He had been taunted by them mercilessly for his lack of size and physical prowess, most notably by Thor's friends since they had spent so much time together, and because he had preferred his books to their energetic play, which he more often than not had not been able to keep up with, anyway. In his youth, he had sometimes wondered if that was the reason why Odin had always favored Thor, why no matter what he did to gain his father's approval, it was always Thor he gave it to. He just had not been strong enough.

Though regardless of the reason, it had been clear to him pretty early on that he was doomed to forever live in his brother's shadow. The throne, the birthright the All-Father had promised could be either his or Thor's, was never meant to be his.

Loki almost laughed aloud at this realization. How foolish he had been as a child, as a young man, for having clung to the possibility and the hope that one day, he would be able to rule over the land he had called home for all of his life until recently. It had always been Thor's to have, Odin had made that painfully clear. Thor, his oaf of a brother who didn't understand the first thing about what it meant to rule as king, had always been guaranteed the throne. All because he was the true son of Odin. All because of his own true parentage. All because he was a monster.

 _"Trust my rage."_

His brow furrowed as his fingers slowly curled into fists. The outrage, the anguish, and the betrayal he had felt when Odin, the man he had looked to and loved as his father for most of his life despite the supposed flaws he had that had been reflected in his remaining eye through the years, had revealed his true origins had overwhelmed him and had caused the only world he had ever known to crumble beneath his feet, leaving him with no sturdy ground to stand on. It was no wonder he had always felt as though he was different from those around him. It was no wonder he had always been brutally taunted by Thor's friends, only gaining some of their respect later in his life when his books and guidance from Frigga, the woman who had been the only mother he had ever had, had helped him to learn his tricks. It was no wonder he could never completely gain the All-Father's favor.

For he was not an Asgardian. Rather, he was a Frost Giant, a monster that he had been told horror stories about before he and Thor would go to bed at night. The same monster that Odin himself, who had told them these very tales, had slain many years before until a peace had been reached between their two realms. Though he had been small and scrawny for his own people as well, which was why he had been abandoned and left to die as a baby on Jotunheim after that great battle since his parents had wanted nothing to do with him. It was how he had come to be in Odin's care to begin with, for it was he who had discovered him and brought into his house to be raised alongside Thor. Though he was never fully a prince of Asgard, nor a son of Odin, no matter what the king said. He was nothing more than a stolen relic, a tool to be used for Odin's own gain as he attempted to keep the peace between his realm and Jotunheim.

It was what had caused him to pursue his doomed mission to Earth in order to become king there. He had only been determined to claim the birthright that had been promised to him since he had been a child, something his unfortunate parentage had prevented him from receiving. After all, a Frost Giant could not be seated on the throne of Asgard. He had seen this reality reflected in Odin's wizened features when he and Thor had nearly fallen into oblivion when his brother had destroyed the Bifrost. It was what had caused him to release Gungnir, their father's spear that Thor had caught to prevent him from plummeting from the rainbow bridge and had– ironically to him– been his only lifeline in that moment, to allow himself to surrender to this inevitable truth and simply allow the depths of the universe to claim him.

After all, he had nowhere to belong. He was not meant to take the throne on Jotunheim since he was a runt of a child, which had caused his real family to abandon him to a cold, lonely death. He was not meant to take the throne on Asgard since he had never been one of their people. And after he had been detained after his failed mission to claim Midgard as his own and brought back to the world he had grown up on, Odin had made it clear that he would have had him fulfill his birthright to die if it had not been for the mercy of Frigga, and instead, he had been sentenced to spend the rest of his days locked away in a prison cell like any common criminal. It was a fate as terrible as, if not worse than, death, he realized, for he had also been abandoned by the three people he had always considered family. He may as well have been dead and gone, for he was all but forgotten to them.

And yet...

Loki took a deep breath as he once again raised his gaze to survey the swirling clouds and drifting sands that seemed to stretch on infinitely before him. Even in the midst of his agony and his fury after Odin had revealed his true parentage, there had been a small part of him, deep down, that had clung to how the All-Father had said, even in the face of his heated words and accusations, that he was still his son. It was that part of him that, as he watched the man who had been his father collapse on the stairs under the emotional stress he was enduring and slip into the deep, recharging Odinsleep, still felt concern for the old king since it had been clear to him for some time that his health had been declining. It was that small part of him that had wanted to believe that despite the truth of his lineage that had been revealed to him, Odin was still his father.

After all, not all of the memories of his childhood with the king had left him feeling as though he'd had no favor with him. There was the day he remembered clearly when he had snuck into Odin's study as a small child on a day that had been deemed too hot for him to play outside with Thor and his friends, and he had been discovered looking through some of his old tomes to read the stories and the lore they contained. Instead of being reprimanded, Odin had allowed him to stay with him and had even gone through some of them with him, making him forget all about his disappointment as he sat on the All-Father's lap at his desk for a couple of hours, simply listening to his timbre voice spin the fantastic tales. There had been another day only a few short years later when the taunting of Fandral, Volstagg, and Sif had hurt him enough where he had hidden deep in the halls of the palace, and it had been Odin who had found him and coaxed him out of his hiding place. He had patiently calmed his tears and encouraged him to rejoin Thor and his friends in their play, telling him not to allow their words to affect him so. And he knew he could never forget the night when he'd had his first nightmare about Laufey, king of the Frost Giants, and couldn't find Thor since he had gone to bed earlier than his older brother, so he had stumbled into a council meeting that Odin was holding in his terror. How ironic, Loki now thought as he reflected on the memory, that he had unknowingly run from the images of his real father into the arms of the man who had only been acting as such.

Though the comfort the All-Father had provided, despite the frustrations of having his meeting interrupted, had cast away the lingering fear and dread from his nightmare as he picked him up into his strong, sheltering arms and carried him back to his room. He had clung to Odin's hand as he sat with him and assured him that Laufey would not be able to hurt him since the battle between their worlds was over, and that he could not be harmed under his watchful eye. He had stayed with him until he had fallen back asleep, delaying his meeting further, and he had slept soundly until morning.

How things had changed so drastically, Loki realized. There had been a part of him, even after he had discovered the truth about himself, that had clung to these memories and these positive feelings toward the man who had raised him, despite how he felt betrayed by the same man. But that part of him had waned and was now nearly dead, ever since he had looked up into Odin's face when the king had caught Thor to prevent both of his sons from falling off the shattered Bifrost, likely sacrificing much of the lingering remains of the energy he still possessed, and still tried to convince him that he could have made him proud and taken on the responsibilities of sitting on the throne of Asgard. The All-Father's response had been nearly silent, though it had still been heard by him as though it had been shouted.

 _"No, Loki."_

Aside from Thor begging him not to let go, his father's disapproval was the last thing he had heard before he released the spear. And the next time he had seen an even weaker Odin, he was nothing more than a mere criminal who was supposed to die for his crimes on Midgard to him. He was no longer Odin's son.

Though it had always been Frigga, the woman he had believed had been his mother, who he had been most attached to when it came to his parents while he had grown up. If he had to be honest with himself, she was the only reason he was still alive. She was one of the only people he could say he truly loved, as well as who likely truly loved him.

 _"Trust my rage."_

Loki's gaze faltered before he closed his eyes. Frigga had not only been his lifeline while he had been her son, but she had also saved his life in many ways while he had been under her care. Along with Odin, she had accepted him into her home when he had been only a baby, as well as accepted him as her own child. There had never been a time where he had felt as though there had been a lack of affection from her, unlike sometimes with Odin, and she had always been the primary one who he had trusted with his most intimate feelings since from her, he felt as though there had been no judgment. She had been one of the only people who had been able to put his fears to rest with just the simple elegance of her singing voice, which had always, as the memory of it did even still, made him forget about everything that could possibly harm him. With her, he had always felt safe and protected from the harshness of the world around him, as her arms had always acted as both a shield and a cloak for him.

When it had become clear that his smaller, leaner stature would not serve him well in combat or the feats of strength that Asgardians were typically known for as he got older and made him feel as though he were inadequate, it had been Frigga who had begun to teach him her tricks of deception to fool the eye. She had wanted to give him something, she had always told him, to hold on to that would mean something to him, something that could be called his own that those around him did not have. While Thor and his friends had their strength and their power, he had his magic and his trickery, something that gave him identity and left him feeling as though he had some strength of his own. His emerald eyes slowly opened and moved down to the dagger that was resting on the ground near him, his gaze passing over the blade. He was equipped enough to handle the weapon and favored it all right, though it was what his mother had taught him, what she had encouraged him to learn and develop on his own, that he felt truly gave him power as he had mastered it over the years.

And it was only by her mercy that he had avoided the axe that Odin would have sentenced him to when he had been detained on Earth and brought back to Asgard. Loki's gaze flickered as he briefly spared a thought to the Chitauri soldiers that had been under his command for his attempted conquest of the people of Midgard and to... _him_. Thanos– a name he had dared not speak when confronted with Thor on Earth or to anyone else despite the brave, almost arrogant face he had put on. He had been caught in the arms of Thanos and his minions after he had released his father's spear and fell into empty space. He had learned more tricks from different sources. He had been granted power. He had learned other ways to travel between worlds without the use of the Bifrost. He had been given an army in his conquest of Midgard to claim what rightfully should have been his. Though it had all come at a high cost, which caused him to shudder. Aside from that, all he'd had to do in return was ensure the Tesseract had landed in the hands of Thanos.

And he had failed, failed due to the interference of his brother and his powerful new superfriends. His fate, one that was promised would have him wishing for death, was now sealed. And he had realized that the only safe place he had ever known would not have been enough to protect him from the wrath that was awaiting him.

Loki glanced down at his hands in surprise when he felt a slight tremble in his slender fingers, and he curled them into fists to still them. He could not afford to be afraid now.

Though it was the thoughts of his return to the home that had once been his in chains that caused him to suppress that anxiety, though it also allowed room for the guilt he had been struggling not to feel to once again rise up within him and grip his heart. Because Frigga, the woman who had truly not been his mother yet had somehow seemed to still regard him as her own son, had seen something in him that was worth saving, he had found himself a captive in the Asgardian prisons. Only she had seemed to care about him even then, providing him with the books he had always loved so much so that he could be as comfortable as possible in the cell that would hold him for the rest of his days. It was a touching gesture, though he had a feeling they were both well aware that it only went so far. Although he would not show it, it was still something he appreciated since it showed him that there was still some love left in the family he had fractured.

A long moment passed before Loki scooped up some of the dark sand into his palm and raised his hand, watching as the minuscule grains were caught in the gusting wind and disappeared as he let out a long breath. He thought back to the last time he had seen Frigga when she had visited him in his cell to ensure that the books she had brought him were meeting his interests. It was a conversation he still regretted. He had yelled at her, proclaiming with vehemence and hatred that Odin was not his father. And then, she had asked him a question that had momentarily stilled him.

 _"And am I not your mother?"_

Though he had refused to show it to her, it was a question that had pierced him deeply. In that moment, flickers of his childhood growing up with her where she had been more of a mother to him than his own, who he had never known, had flashed through his mind, reminding him that indeed she was.

But instead, he had looked her straight in the eye, and in a much calmer way, gave her his answer.

 _"No, you're not."_

And the worst part of the last words he had ever spoken to Frigga, the only one who had still shown him any semblance of love even after all he had done, was they were not even spoken to her. It was merely one of her tricks, a simple projection that she had taught him how to emulate, since Odin had made it clear that he was to never see his mother again. It truly had not been the woman he still loved.

Though as he thought about it, Loki knew his true last words to Frigga had not been any better. He had been mocking, arrogant, defiant in the face of both of his adoptive parents as he stood before the throne of the All-Father in shackles to face his fate. If only he had known then that he would not have another opportunity to truly speak with her. It still made him anxious to realize he had not had a chance to let her know he regretted how things had happened, especially with her. He would have given anything to have that opportunity.

Especially because the fault for her fate had been his own.

When Kurse, sent by the Dark Elves, had infiltrated the Asgardian prisons and began releasing some of the marauding forces that had also been recently locked up, he had to admit that he had been frustrated that he was once again being left behind. In part because of that blossoming aggravation and in part to spite Odin for how their relationship had completely deteriorated, he had told the monster where to go to find the man he had once considered his father.

Though what he had not foreseen was he had instead sent it directly to his mother.

 _"Trust my rage."_

Loki closed his eyes tightly as he let out a slightly shaking breath, feeling as some of the sand directly around him swirled into the air as he released a small burst of energy. When the guard had come to inform him that Frigga had been slain in the Dark Elves' attack, it had made him almost numb for the briefest of moments as he struggled not to show the turmoil raging beneath the surface. Though they had been words that had shaken him to his very core. He had envisioned all of the life gone from the gentle face he knew and loved so well. He had clung to the fading voice that would never sing again. He had envisioned the flaming arrows that would have rained around her as the boat they had set her body off in made its way through the water. He had envisioned the shimmering lights of her spirit being raised to the skies above.

And he knew her life had been taken because of his bitterness, because of his resentment, and he knew how unfair that was. It should never have been her. She did not deserve that.

Although it had ironically been this event that had led to his salvation.

Loki slowly opened his eyes before a ghost of a smile turned up the corner of his lips. How strange, he thought, that it had been his oaf of a brother who had strolled into the prisons and offered him the way out. Though, he had to admit, there was no way it could have been more fitting that it had been Thor who had granted him his, at least temporary, freedom. If he were being honest, his time growing up with the other man had not always been such a terrible ordeal.

Sure, there had been many disagreements over the years, as well as the rivalries. There certainly were times where he had been cast in Thor's shadow, even though the older boy had seemed not to notice. There were times where his brother's friends would give him trouble. And he had only tried to make it clear to Odin that Thor's reckless, often brash behavior would not be suitable for the throne of Asgard when the All-Father had chosen him to be the next king, though it had done little good. Little had he known that their father had already made his decision long before.

Although, there were some... almost fond moments between them in their childhood and young adult years, also. Loki chuckled quietly. He could clearly recall all the times he had snuck into Thor's room in the middle of the night to seek comfort because of a nightmare or a storm that had frightened him, often staying in his bed with him when they were very young and then in the same room when they were a little older. There were times where Thor, in his blissful obliviousness, had given him encouragement when it appeared as though Odin had been displeased with him, often offering different ways in which to cheer him up until he felt better. There had been times where his older brother had told off his friends for their taunting of him when it became too much. And sure, there were times where he had gotten Thor into trouble, although he had also been there to get him out of it. It was a sentiment that had gone both ways, for as many times as Thor also got them both into trouble, he usually could find some way to also get them out of it again. Though there were also many times when he had been able to prevent his older brother from getting them both into trouble when his own usually calmer, cooler head had prevailed against Thor's impulsive, rash instinct, or when his patience allowed him to listen and talk things through with the other boy, and later, man.

He also had to admit that for all of the fool's shortcomings, Thor had also been rather protective of him through the years other than when he had allowed him to stay with him after he had a nightmare or had provided shelter from a storm or had come to his defense when he had been harassed by their friends. Loki clearly remembered the time, when they were older, when a routine mission on Asgard had turned disastrous when he had been gravely wounded after he, Thor, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun had been ambushed by a couple of traitorous men with the intention to bring harm to Odin and his family. Thor had not only subdued their attackers in his rage, but he had also brought him to the healing ward and did not leave his side the entire time until he knew he would recover.

Yes, he had to admit that growing up with his older brother had not been an entirely awful experience.

Loki's gaze faltered as he stretched out his fingers a bit, having to brush some wayward dark hair behind his ear when the wind blew it into his face. The seemingly infinite moment when he had been hanging off the Bifrost, kept from falling into the empty space that awaited him only by both his and Thor's grasp on Gungnir, was a moment that still haunted his dreams from time to time. He could still feel the cold metal of the spear in his hand, keeping him from plummeting to his demise. He could still see the fear on Thor's face as they dangled over the dark oblivion. He could still hear the breaking of his voice when he begged him not to let go. He could still see the anguish in his features when he did. Every time he closed his eyes, he could remember the agony, the terror, the cold, the darkness... everything that had come with falling...

Though in that moment, he realized, they had still been brothers despite how he had forced Thor's hand to recklessly charge into Jotunheim and endanger them and their friends, which had led to his banishment to Midgard. Despite how he had lied to him about their father's death and their mother's shame. Despite how he had threatened the life of the mortal woman Thor loved. Despite how he had briefly claimed the throne of Asgard and used that power to almost destroy Jotunheim, having already killed his real father in mostly a show of protecting Odin, as well as nearly taking Thor's life by using the Destroyer to kill his mortal form, which he had to admit hadn't been his intention.

There was still something there between them after all of that, something that still made them brothers.

When he had been confronted by Thor the first time in his attempted conquest of Earth, Loki recalled clearly how that feeling had lingered even then. He remembered how the thunder god had expressed his sorrow about how he had believed him to be dead after he had allowed himself to fall from the Bifrost, how he and the rest of the people of Asgard had mourned the loss. There was a part of him that wanted to believe his brother, though there was an even bigger part of him that was still uncertain if the All-Father had regretted the likely fate of the man who was no longer his son. Thor had also urged him, almost begged him, to forget about his plans to reign over Midgard and to come home. There had been compassion in the gesture as his hand almost anxiously yet tenderly grasped his shoulder, the back of his neck. It was something he was familiar with.

For a moment, he had to wonder what would have happened had he told the older man about who had given him the power of the Tesseract when he'd been confronted about it, as he could not deny that he had been somewhat fearful with the arrangement. Perhaps... perhaps Thor could have helped him in his predicament... as he had always used to...

But then, Loki shook his head briefly as he squeezed his eyes shut. No, it was something he could not bring himself to think about. He was in enough trouble and danger as it was because of his failure, knowing that eventually, Thanos would find him. The threat of what would happen to him should he fail had been made clear enough. He just hoped the turn of events on Svartalfheim had staved that inevitability off for a little longer yet.

For even Thor, in all of his power, could not stand much of a chance against Thanos.

Though what had surprised him even more was when he had been confronted by Thor yet again at the top of the Stark Tower building in New York City when the Chitauri soldiers had arrived to help him claim what he wanted, the older man had still treated him as though they were brothers, even though he had killed a beloved S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who could be considered a friend and dropped the thunder god from the helicarrier in a prison that was built to contain the likes of the power of the Hulk. Thor had still wanted him to give up his mission and to work together in order to stop the Chitauri.

And as much as he wanted to tell himself otherwise, Loki could not deny that he had actually considered it and had almost agreed. When he had been presented with his offer, he had remembered the countless times he and his brother had worked together effectively as a team, and he had almost given up the power the Tesseract had granted him in order to stand by his side once again. After having to face the realization that the people he had believed had been his family ever since he could remember truly were not, Thor had still wanted to hang on to that sibling bond that had once existed between them, which was exactly what he had secretly wanted to salvage, as well. He assumed Odin or Frigga had informed the thunder god that they were truly not related and that he was actually Laufey's son, but Thor had not taken that into consideration in that moment. He had not cared. He had just wanted to find any trace of the brotherly bond that had once been there for them.

And the more he'd thought about it, the more he had realized that the throne of Asgard was something he'd never really wanted. As he'd even admitted to his older brother out of anger, all he'd ever truly wanted was to be considered his equal. He had known since he'd been a child that he and Thor had never been equal in Odin's eye, and unless he took matters into his own hands and accomplished something great, they never would be. How his bitterness and resentment, as well as the promise of great power, had changed him, had led him to do things he'd never imagined he'd do in his life, how the Chitauri had taken advantage of these emotions to twist him to do these things... Though what he'd clung to, even if just slightly, was the other man's attempts to bring him back from this dangerous place. A definite change had begun to come over Thor since the last time he had seen him, that much had been certain. His capacity for forgiveness of his trespasses had run very deep indeed.

Though even that had its limits.

Even though, for a brief moment, accepting Thor's offer to join with him to fight against the Chitauri sounded ideal, Loki had not been able to bring himself to do so, and he instead continued to fight with the thunder god until he, as well as the soldiers that Thanos had granted him, had been stopped, and he had been detained. He had sat dutifully in his prison cell. He had learned about his mother's death. And Thor had come to see him.

Loki stretched his stiff back out a bit, wincing when his chest stung a bit in protest to the action. When he had first seen the thunder god approach him, he had put up a front– the same arrogant, mocking, and defiant front he had put on for Odin and Frigga the day he had been brought back to Asgard and had to face them. But, much as he assumed his adoptive parents had, Thor had seen right through it and had actually, in a straightforward manner, told him that there should be no more illusions. And because he didn't have the spirit to fight him on it, he had let down his guard and allowed the man he had grown up with to see how much Frigga's death had truly impacted him. He had felt vulnerable in that moment, sitting in the disarray that his cell had become while Thor simply looked in on him from the other side of the energized wall. He, in a moment of that vulnerability, that weakness, had even called him "brother," just as he used to when they had been much closer when they were younger, and what the thunder god would usually address him as even still.

Though for the first time that he could remember, Thor had not responded to the term of endearment, nor had he returned it. Instead, he had blatantly told him that any hope that may have lingered for him that the brother he'd always known was still within the man that he now saw sitting in the cell before him was gone, that if he even thought of betraying him if he did grant him his temporary freedom, he would kill him without a thought. His features had remained impassive, his eyes wary– an unfamiliar look– as they had studied him. There had been suspicion and scrutiny in them, almost as though they were picking him apart piece by piece to determine if this could just be another one of his tricks.

But it had been no trick. Loki sighed. This had been the first time since the rift had begun to form between him and Thor that he had cast away any sort of illusion, a small part of him still entrusting the other man with the most intimate part of himself, just as he always had. And it had not been well received. Though he could not blame him– after all that he had done, he realized he had been fortunate that Thor had given him the couple of chances that he had before finally giving up on him. Though it wasn't the easiest thing to know that he had finally severed the one true part of any familial connection, aside from Frigga, that had remained for him.

They were brothers no longer.

 _"Did she suffer?"_

A chill passed through Loki, causing his lithe form to tremble. It was the one thing he had wanted to know about his mother's passing, the one thing that could somewhat ease the guilt that was even still tearing him apart from the inside out. Not that he deserved that reprieve since it was because of him that she had lost her life to begin with. He did not deserve to hear that even after everything that he'd done, Frigga had still trusted him. He had to admit that it had only been right that Thor had completely ignored his question and instead made him an offer that he would have been a fool to pass up– temporary freedom in order to help the older man reach Svartalfheim to trick Malekith, leader of the Dark Elves, into removing the Aether from the mortal girl he loved so he could instead destroy it, and in doing so, give them both the chance to avenge Frigga's death. Though afterward, it had been made clear that he would have to return to his cell to still live out the rest of his days in captivity.

Well, Loki knew he was no fool. He had accepted Thor's offer, and a world of infinite possibilities had been awarded to him. It was a situation he could easily take advantage of to work in his favor. And that was exactly what he had done, albeit in not quite the way he had anticipated.

Although, he also had to admit that working with Thor again as they committed treason against the king to escape from Asgard to reach the Dark World had been somewhat pleasant. Despite their bickering and all-out fighting, the more playful banter that had begun between them had reminded him of their younger days when there had been no animosity between them. Working out a plan to fool the Dark Elves so they could attempt to destroy the Aether, knowing full well that it would likely cost them their lives should they fail, had reminded him of the missions they had been on together that had been so successful since they made a powerful team. Fighting side by side with the thunder god after their plan had indeed failed and Malekith had absorbed the Aether had reminded him of the countless times they had done this same sort of thing before. It had all felt natural to him somehow, almost as though there had never been this divide between them at all. It just pained him somewhat that it had taken their mother's death for them to once again reach this point with each other, though it was her memory, the thought of her not wanting them to fight with each other though not being surprised by it, that had begun to renew their own bond. Thor had even expressed that he wished the trust they once had was there once more, though he had assured him that there was one thing he could certainly trust.

 _"Trust my rage."_

Even though the plan he and Thor had made to deceive the Dark Elves by casting the illusion that he would betray his older brother in order to watch Asgard fall had failed, and Malekith had gained exactly what he wanted, Loki knew his own desire to remain out of prison had actually worked out. He was free from the cell he otherwise would have to spend the rest of his life in, and as an added bonus, he was dead to the world. If his short encounter with Kurse on Asgard had shown him anything, it was that the prisons there were not as impenetrable as they had once been believed. With Thanos searching for him due to his failure of not bringing him the Tesseract, Loki knew that at one time, he had briefly considered his prison cell as an escape from the threat that loomed over him, which was why he had allowed himself to be detained and returned to Asgard without too much of a struggle when he had realized the Chitauri were going to be stopped. Though that was shattered as soon as Kurse had somewhat effortlessly broke through the cells in order to release some of the prisoners they held. As powerful as that monster had been, Thanos was much stronger, and he had known that he couldn't return to his own cell after his revenge was claimed because not only did he not want to, but he also knew he would not be protected there. Fortunately, another way to remove himself from that situation had presented itself as Thor's plan fell apart, and despite how painfully unexpected it was, he was relieved he had been able to take advantage of it.

Loki winced again when that slight, pesky sting returned to his chest, and he scowled as he set a light hand over it. Though he considered his plan to not return to Asgard's prisons to have gone somewhat smoothly, all things considered, he had to admit that he had done some things that even he had not anticipated.

No matter how much he attempted to wrap his mind around it, he still for the life of him could not understand what Thor saw in the mortal girl named Jane that he had met in New Mexico during his banishment to Midgard. Sure, she had a few attractive features and was apparently very intelligent for a being from Earth, though aside from that, she was as plain as plain could be. And somewhat annoying, if he was being completely honest, despite the smidge of begrudging respect he had to admit he had for her for having the gall to stand up to him upon their first official meeting. He had tried to explain to Thor, though he was uncertain why his care for the older man's well-being had been a factor in doing so, that her lifespan would be over in the blink of an eye, and he'd have to live the rest of his much longer life without her. There was a part of him that commended him for his devotion to her despite this obvious problem, though there was a larger part, though he would never openly admit it, that did not want to see him hurt when he would inevitably lose her since he could never be prepared for that loss. There had been a change in Thor since he had been to Earth, and even he could see that she had been a part of that change. If he was ready for the throne of Asgard was still up for debate, though he could not deny that he was no longer so brash nor so reckless, and a definite sense of calm and reason had fallen over him, despite the temper that would still slip through every once in a while. It was just hard for him to believe that Jane, this small mortal woman, had been a major part of that change.

Which was why he had saved her life without even a second thought, he realized. It was why he had covered her, protected her, when Thor attempted to use Mjolnir to destroy the Aether after it had been removed from Jane. It was why he had shoved her out of the way of one of the Dark Elves' bombs and had nearly been pulled into it himself before the thunder god had pushed him away from it. He had put his own life at risk for a mortal, something he had never even considered doing before, more than once without thinking.

Though it hadn't been for her, he knew. He honestly didn't care much about what happened to her. It had been for Thor.

Loki glanced down at his chest when the pesky sting continued to throb. It wasn't painful anymore, but it was making itself known with a vengeance. And it was trying his patience.

When he had seen Thor being beaten by Kurse and didn't appear to be able to get himself out of the situation, he had made his decision. He had to admit that driving the long blade through the monster's back had felt good, as it was the very reason, other than getting them off of Asgard to begin with, why the thunder god had called on him to help with this mission– he was avenging his mother's death. The further he had pushed the blade in, the further he had also pierced his own guilt since he had been the one who had sent Kurse straight to Frigga. He had hoped that the pain his mother had felt was now being experienced tenfold by this beast.

However, there was a part of him– a much bigger part than he had anticipated– that had also driven the blade deep into Kurse because he wanted to save Thor. It would have done them no good if the thunder god had been killed, but it was also more than that. Over the time they had spent with each other after he had been released from his prison, he had felt as though they had at least somewhat been rediscovering their connection as brothers. The rift that had formed between them had lessened. And although they had not been as close as they once were, he felt as though they had started to make their way there once again.

Though he'd had a feeling it was going to take more than the simple action of stabbing the monster to actually kill it. There had been a moment that seemed to stretch on forever when Kurse had taken its attention off of Thor and instead turned to him, and they had simply stared each other down, just as they had before when he had been in his prison cell.

And then he had been grabbed by the creature and pulled against its massive body, the blade that he had driven through it piercing straight through his chest.

Mentally, he had been somewhat prepared for something such as this to happen due to his interference, which had not been part of Thor's plan. However, he had to admit that there was no way he could have been prepared for the intensity of the pain when the blade had pierced him, burning as it spread through the rest of his body. It had taken his breath away and had nearly caused his mind to go numb. Though he had suffered it in relative silence as he stared directly into Kurse's eyes, as he also knew that it was something he rightfully deserved after the loss his selfish actions had caused, and he had not resisted when he had been forcefully pushed to the ground by the creature. But he also knew that he'd had no greater satisfaction than giving one final taunt as he had watched Kurse be decimated by one of the Dark Elves' own bombs, which he had set off on the monster without its knowing. It was in that moment that he had felt as though at least some of his sins, as well as part of his guilt, had been absolved since he had been the one to kill their mother's murderer.

Though what he hadn't anticipated was Thor's response to his actions.

Loki's gaze faltered as he lowered it to his hands again. When Kurse had stabbed him, the thunder god's anguished scream had hardly registered in his mind until it had nearly faded, for the pain had been blocking nearly everything else out. It had confused him, for he had not understood why he was hearing the distress and the concern in the other man's voice. There had been no reason for Thor to feel the way he had, not after everything he had done...

But in those few moments, he had been able to quickly assess his injury. The blade had gone deep, although he'd realized that it was not something that would have killed him immediately. And that was when he'd realized that was his way out. As long as he had been able to keep the bleeding controlled, he had been able to buy himself enough time to heal himself after outwardly causing the injury to appear worse than it actually was. It had been a risk, for if he had lost consciousness due to the pain and blood loss before he'd had the chance to heal himself, he would not have survived.

Though it was a risk he'd had to take. He'd had to fool his brother one more time.

Casting the illusion that he was dying had been simple enough, for all he'd had to do was convincingly alter his already pale complexion to a more unappealing sallow tone, although the cringes of pain hadn't been acting. That had been his burden, his penance, for what had happened to Frigga. Loki sighed as the annoying sting once again briefly flared before quickly fading, his features softening as his thoughts returned to Thor.

As he had writhed on the sandy ground in agony, struggling to breathe, after Kurse was gone, he had not expected the battered and beaten thunder god to appear beside him in a panic and grasp onto him tightly, almost as though that alone would have been enough to keep his life from slipping away. He couldn't deny that the warmth and security of the other man's strong arms had been almost comforting as it had reminded him of the time before this rift had formed between them when they had been so close. Something had certainly changed between them since they had left Asgard to this moment together in the dark sands of Svartalfheim.

As he'd gazed up into Thor's worried, sorrow-filled face as he had admonished him for not sticking to the plan, he saw something else there that part of him had desperately wanted to cling to. It was the same look he had seen in him when both he and Thor had been dangling off the Bifrost. There had been a hint of longing in the older man's features, a longing to forget all the jealousy, greed, and hatred that had passed between them and return to what they had once been– brothers. It was at that moment he had realized that, like him, some small part of Thor had still hoped that his little brother was within the traitorous man he had cradled in the Dark World, despite the bold words he had spoken to him back in the prisons on Asgard.

The barriers they had both put up had been brought down. In that moment, in his apparent final moments, they were brothers again. Just as they always had been.

Loki remembered how he had struggled to tell Thor how much of a fool he was before the older man had placed his hand on his cheek, quietly begging him to stay with him as he had gazed back at him imploringly. Loki had met his gaze, still a bit uncertain in that moment if he could hold on long enough to start the healing process, and had frantically attempted to apologize to Thor before the thunder god had shushed him so he could save some of his strength. The concern on his brother's part had truly been comforting to him, for for the first time, he'd felt as though the other man had actually forgiven him for everything that he'd done. Though he had also been able to tell that Thor had grown resigned to what would happen as he had assured him that things were all right, but his words still calmed him. Though he also had to admit that his own words had slightly confused him. He had spoken them in part to add to the charade of his impending death, but there was also a part of them, deeper down, that had been genuine.

Though what he had been trying to apologize for, he wasn't so sure, even as he reflected on that moment. For not following along with Thor's plan since that was how they had gotten to where they had ended up, possibly. For how his own bitterness had caused the loss of their mother, maybe. For all the wrong he had committed against the other man or for how he had fractured their family, potentially. Or maybe even, quite possibly, for things that had not yet happened.

A shudder passed through him as Loki again allowed a brief thought to Thanos and the failure he'd had while working with his followers. He was unsure just how many people the wrath that was sure to come would affect, and that was something that he could not deny was unnerving to him.

Though it had been his brother's next emotional yet reassuring words that had caught him off guard.

 _"I'll tell Father what you did here today."_

Loki's eyes narrowed. He knew Thor had meant well with the sentiment, for dying, and living, with honor had always been a matter of great importance to the people of Asgard. He knew that in Thor's mind, this would be the way for him to regain at least some of his standing with their father, which to the thunder god had appeared to be a priority.

Though he knew better. He knew that Odin no longer cared about him. The All-Father had played the part of his father for most of his life up until this point, but he was no longer his son. It was why he was glad to have one more little moment of defiance before he had felt himself beginning to fade.

 _"I didn't do it for him."_

And with that, he had closed his eyes, allowing his illusion to work its magic while at the same time being hopeful that he could soon begin his restoration. His brother's anguished cry had been the last thing he had heard before he allowed himself to fall under.

Loki took a deep breath before letting it out again. His last words to Thor still stuck with him, although this time, it wasn't because he didn't know what they meant. This time, he knew exactly what he had been saying, even if the thunder god hadn't. He had not made his sacrifice for Odin– the All-Father had been nowhere near his mind when he had plunged the long blade through the body of Kurse. He had made it for Frigga, to repay his mother for everything she had ever done for him and to make it up to her for all the wrongs he had committed as well as being the catalyst in her murder.

But he had also made it for Thor. He was convinced that he had not been the only one to feel that their tattered relationship was beginning to be patched back up during their mission to remove the Aether from his precious mortal, as well as to avenge Frigga's death. It was something that had brought him some level of comfort after all that had transpired between him and his family, and that at least some of his sins had been able to be absolved. If he had truly died, he may have been at a place where he could have at least come close to somewhat accepting it.

Though, fortunately, that hadn't been the case.

A small smile appeared on Loki's face as he once again glanced at the wasteland around him. Despite the pain his actions had brought and the time it took for him to recover, his plan of staying outside of Asgard's prisons had worked as perfectly as they could have. He was almost glad that Thor had taken Jane as they likely pursued Malekith and would be distracted with that for some time since it gave him the opportunity to not only heal himself, but to proceed from there. Thor would likely not be coming back here with all he had to do. Not to mention that being thought dead also came with anonymity. Perhaps even Thanos could not track him down now, for he was certain word of his death would spread.

Or, at least, he could help it to spread.

Smirking to himself, Loki pushed himself to his feet, wincing a bit as he straightened up completely and stretched out his stiff muscles. He closed his eyes, an emerald glow appearing around him as he shifted forms to that of an Asgardian guard in uniform, the same he had briefly used when he and his brother had been putting their plan together to escape to Svartalfheim. He took a second to straighten the helmet on his head before he turned, walking with a bit of tenderness back toward the boat he and Thor had procured for their journey where it was sitting in the sand a few miles away that would bring him back to the place he had once considered home.

After all, he had some business yet to attend to.

 **Author's Note** : All right, that's it for part one! Part two, which will be Thor's perspective, should hopefully be up soon. As my first _Thor_ fic, this was meant as a way to get my feet wet with writing with these worlds and the characters in them. I've got more ideas going through my head that I'll probably end up writing, likely some that will be based on some of the things that were mentioned in here, after this story is finished. But for now, thanks for reading! Your reviews are appreciated, just no flames please. Thank you!


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